Other People's Dreams
by Muffinzelda
Summary: A line from Colin Dexter's novel The Remorseful Day inspired this reflection piece. It'd be properly classified as a Morse-Lewis crossover, but if you know my writing, you know that all roads will lead to Robbie and Laura.
1. 1999

Disclaimer: this story is for fan purposes only. The characters and cited text are property of their respective owners (not me!) and are used here without permission. I owe a tremendous debt to Colin Dexter, whom the world lost in 2017. His creations have brought me joy and set my imagination free. I share here with you part of that imagination...

* * *

Introduction

It was 1999 in an Irish pub in Oxfordshire...

There were four of them around the table: Detective Inspector Morse, his faithful Sergeant Lewis, the boss Chief Superintendent Strange, and the pathologist Dr. Hobson. They had been investigating the death of Yvonne Harrison- a woman with ties to both Morse and Strange, but now a fresh corpse had turned up. Moments ago, Dr. Hobson had burst into the pub demanding improved conditions at the crime scene where Morse had discovered the body of one Harry Repp. _Dr. Hobson knows how to make an entrance,_ the sergeant might have mused. Strange silenced Hobson by promising he'd take care of the problem and summarily waved her to a chair. Morse, true to form, quoted some poetry and then Morse and Strange retreated to a shared reverie, completely enthralled by the ebullient Irish music.

 **"And for a while Sergeant Lewis and Dr. Hobson remained silent, as if they knew they should be treading softly; as if they might be treading on other people's dreams." (Colin Dexter, The Remorseful Day, chapter 33, p. 151)**

* * *

Despite the music, the silence between Lewis and Hobson was palpable. She was fuming about the state of the crime scene and he was awaiting cues from his superiors. After a a few speechless minutes that felt much longer, Lewis nodded towards the senior detectives and said to Hobson, "we might be here a while. I'll get you a drink." Hobson expressed her gratitude, and Lewis didn't mention to her that the drinks were on the house.

Lewis returned and set down a pint in front of Dr. Hobson. "We'll never know, Lewis," she said barely audibly over the music.

"What? Harry Repp's cause of death? Sure, it's mucky out there right now, but once you get him back to your lab for a post-mortem…"

"No, no, Harry Repp was obviously stabbed. I mean, Morse and Strange. We'll never know dream they're lost in right now."

Lewis nodded again.

Hobson leaned in towards Lewis so as not to attract their companion's attention by yelling. "Can you imagine those two, Oxford, in the 60's?"

Lewis chuckled. "You're right on that score; we'll never know the half of it." He sipped his pint. "I think, though, that Strange is for his part reminiscing about his wife. He mentioned a weekend in Cork together just before you'd arrived…"

"Ah," Hobson said somberly, remembering that Strange was recently widowed. "Better days."

Lewis agreed. "If I were in his shoes... well, I don't know what I'd do without Valerie, meself."

Hobson smiled at Lewis' domesticity. "She must miss you as well on nights such as these, when you and Morse have a case."

"Oh, she stays busy. There's her quilting bee, and then the wine shop." That piqued Hobson's attention. "Her extended family is Greek, you see; they have a Greek specialty food and wine shop. She started out just translating to English during special events like Cypress Sherry Week, but she's there pretty regular now that the kids are older. Not that she gets paid, mind you, but she keep us flush with retsina. Which is all well and good, but I'm more of an ale man meself.

"I see," Dr. Hobson said as she nodded towards Lewis' Guinness. "Isn't yours usually an orange juice, though, Sergeant?"

"Haven't you heard? I passed my inspector's course," Lewis said with pride- all the while knowing that he was still responsible for driving Morse's jaguar home.

"Cheers," Hobson answered by raising her glass towards Lewis, then to her lips. "Waiting for the right opportunity to make a move, then?" She nodded towards Morse. As bad luck would have it, the music had abruptly ceased and Lewis could not answer.

But Morse did- and he was a little put out at Hobson's suggestion. "Lewis," Morse bellowed, at the momentary pause between ballads. "Dr. Hobson does not want to hear you prattle on about your family or your banal existence. You'll bore her to death."

Lewis chuckled. "Right you are, sir," he said and lifted his Guinness once again.

The Irish melodies reprised, and raptured Morse away again. Hobson leaned in towards Lewis once more. "I don't mind, Lewis, hearing about your family."

Lewis smiled but hesitated to continue, nevertheless. Usually it was Lewis who could talk to a wall, but silence fell between them once more until Hobson decided to pick up the thread.

"So, Mrs. Lewis is fluent in Greek, then? You must travel."

"Not as much as she'd like, but she's always planning something. Val took a class in Greek, we both did for a while, but truth be told, her Greek was rather rubbish. She actually started picking up much more of the language from the clientele at the shop."

"It's the same for me. My German was always pitiful in the classroom, but when I am with my German friends I find myself picking up all manner of expressions."

"Do you have many German friends?"

"Well." Hobson demurred. "One friend in particular. My significant other, I suppose. He's a businessman who splits his time between Oxford and Germany. It's lovely there as well. I adore going to visit."

Lewis smiled; he was happy that Hobson had apparently given the boot to DCI Martin Johnson, who always called him Bob instead of Robbie. "Sounds exciting," he commented.

"Well, I don't know about that, but a long-distance relationship helps me to compartmentalise. You know, with all the corpses and whatnot in my daily routine."

"I'll drink to that," said Lewis, despite knowing that he belonged firmly in Hobson's 'corpse compartment.'

The music had ended, and Chief Superintendent Strange drained his drink. "Back to work, now, mateys."

* * *

Other people's dreams are blissfully simplistic; as Lewis and Hobson so readily imagined Strange reminiscing about his late wife on a weekend in Cork, so too did they imagine each other. Lewis saw Hobson frolicking in a Rhineland vineyard just as Hobson conjured up a cosy tableau of the Lewises and their children. But Morse? He remained a mystery to the sergeant and pathologist, among others. Lewis knew that Morse loved music, but this evening's tunes had made him particularly misty.

Lewis asked him later, "what were you dreaming about, sir, back there at the pub?"

"The case of course," Morse snapped. Maybe once he would have been remembering his tryst with Yvonne Harrison, but now he only dreamed of finding her killer- and Harry Repp's- once and for all. "Dreams change, Lewis; they morph, if you will permit me a reference to Morpheus. One day it hits you and you realise that you're starting a new chapter."

"Morpheus, the God of sleep, sir?"

"Not sleep, Lewis! Dreams! Pay attention." But Morse regretted his harsh tone and gazed benevolently at his sergeant. Morse seemed to know that he was writing his final chapter, but that Lewis would have many more ahead.

* * *

Author note: In the 1991 episode Greek Bearing Gifts, Robbie and Val are taking Greek lessons. In the 1992 episode Cherubim and Seraphim, Robbie comes home to ask his son where his mum is. The boy responds that she's down at the wine store translating because it's Cypress Sherry Week. That seemed to be a big leap, so I decided to run with it and give Val a Greek family and a part-time job.


	2. 2015

It was 2015 at the White Horse pub in Oxford...

There were four of them around the table: The Detective Inspector, his faithful sergeant, the boss the Chief Superintendent, and the pathologist. They were four solitary creatures: DI Lewis had been widowed at least a decade prior. From the depths of Lewis' despair he further developed his instinct for detective work. His companion these days was Sergeant James Hathaway, a failed priest. Chief Superintendent Jean Innocent was the only married one among them, but the elusive Mr Innocent was perpetually indisposed when it came to supporting his wife's career. And Dr. Hobson, minus one German businessman, still kept the company of corpses.

They were there to amicably-yet-professionally celebrate the end of a drugs smuggling operation that had led to two murders and two assaults. But something wasn't as one might expect- certainly an outcome that Morse and Strange would not have predicted.

* * *

Ten minutes earlier

Dr. Hobson had arrived only moments ago… and mouths were still agape. _Dr. Hobson knows how to make an entrance,_ mused the sergeant.

"How long…?" gasped a bewildered Chief Superintendent Innocent.

"I turn my back for five minutes…" said Hathaway, confirming that this development was indeed new.

The four colleagues would often replay that moment in their minds, the moment when Dr. Hobson arrived at the White Horse pub and leapt amorously into the waiting arms of DI Lewis. The two shared a passionate kiss before acknowledging both their peers and their embarrassment.

Lewis and Hobson awkwardly excused themselves and then shuffled off to get the next round of pints. Innocent and Hathaway sat in silence, both bewildered and overjoyed, at the sight of other people's dreams coming true right before their eyes.

* * *

The four were seated at the table, Innocent and Hathaway each clung to a drink while Lewis and Hobson kept piling their hands one atop the other. Hathaway decided to break the silence. "So, Dr. Hobson, you finally decided to settle."

"Oy, there…" Lewis protested. Hathaway smirked.

"No, no, you didn't let me finish. I was going to say 'settle down.'"

Hobson's face was flushed as she spoke with unusual alacrity, "I adore him. I don't even know how it happened, but I do. So when Robbie told me that he was ready to start a new chapter…" she looked to Lewis and trailed off into what was very nearly a giggle.

"So," Innocent prodded, "do you two have any plans for this new chapter?"

"Right now, I'd like nothing more than to run away!" Hobson declared. Everyone agreed that they had never seen the unflappable pathologist looking so embarrassed.

"Gretna Green?" asked Hathaway.

"No," Lewis said with a wicked smile in preparation of payback for his sergeants' 'Hobson settling' comment. "We thought we might visit an orphanage in Croatia."

Now Innocent turned her uniquely nonplussed face towards Hathaway whose turn it was to look embarrassed.

Lewis decided to save Hathaway from explaining. "What I mean, ma'am, is that you never know where life will lead. When I first met Laura Hobson many years ago, I never would have dreamed that we'd be here today. But I'm damned happy that we are." Lewis and Hobson squeezed each other's hands again.

* * *

For two generations the DI, the sergeant, the Chief Super, and the pathologist had been a four-part harmony of different voices that came together to make a new creation- but now an unexpected and beautiful duet had emerged. Lewis' and Hobson's dreams evolved and came together at the right place in their own time. Innocent and Hathaway watched as Lewis and Hobson left the White Horse pub, arms entwined and in perfect step. Love is a dream best shared.


	3. Epilogue

Epilogue

Reminiscing in later years, Lewis and Hobson would recall that time in the pub at the end of the twentieth century for the decline of Morse and Strange rather than for their banal conversation.

 **"None of us gets better as we get older,"** Strange had said that night in the Irish pub. (Colin Dexter, The Remorseful Day, chapter 33, p. 149)

The future Inspector Lewis, however, would prove to be the exception to that rule. He had always been a loving champion of his family and friends, but he really came into his own for the people of Oxford and beyond later in life. And Dr. Hobson was all too happy to confirm the results.

* * *

Author Note: Happy Valentine's day, fanfic friends! Robbie and Laura's enduring love story is a great way to mark the day. I will never tire of these two. As an added Valentine's day bonus, I decided to include some extra material that otherwise would never see the light of day- in the next chapter.


	4. Deleted Scene!

Author note: I don't write song fics because they almost always go wrong in shoehorning the characters into certain lyrics. This was no exception. This scene takes place after Strange says "back to work, Mateys" in 1999. The song _I'll Be_ by Edwin McCain is from this same era, and as it is about the potential for romance, I found certain parts of it apt. Except I got the lyrics wrong. *Sigh* Oh well, here is a snippit, just for fun.

* * *

Strange made good on his promise to Hobson; the SOCOs did the necessary minimum at the scene before the car could be moved to a lab for Hobson to properly examine the corpse of Harry Repp.

Hobson oversaw the procedure, barking an occasional admonishment from under a SOCO tent which did little to protect her from the damp rainy air. Morse and Strange had left after the pub to think, or maybe drink some more somewhere else. Sergeant Lewis remained on the scene in their stead. He chatted with the SOCOs as they worked as was his manner. When the car was safely loaded on a flatbed lorry with the corpse secured still in the boot, Lewis joined Hobson under the tent. "Right, then, that's sorted. What are your thoughts, Doctor?"

Hobson couldn't help but notice that Lewis was shivering from the mix of wind and rain.

"Perhaps you'd like to step into my office, Lewis?" She said, nodding at her car.

"Is that what passes for your office these days?" Lewis asked as he climbed into the passenger seat.

Hobson turned the key to the ignition to start the heat. As she did, the radio flickered on.

 _I'll be better when I'm older_

She turned down the radio and reached into the back seat and grabbed a Thermos of coffee. She unscrewed the cup from the top and poured Lewis a cup. "Here," she offered. "I knew what I was getting into when I got the call, so I came prepared. You, I imagine, have been running around all day."

"Ta," Lewis accepted.

Hobson then delved into detail about the Harry Repp's stab wounds and what she expected to find at the post-mortem. She sipped from the Thermos itself. "All that is pending confirmation tomorrow's PM, of course. I assume that Morse won't be attending?"

Lewis had not told Hobson that Morse had been sick upon discovering the corpse; but somehow, he suspected that she already knew. "Morse eagerly awaits your report, doctor."

It seemed that there was nothing more to be said, so Lewis drained his cup and handed it back to Hobson. "I'll be in touch, thanks again."

As Lewis exited Hobson's car, she turned up the radio.

 _I'll be the greatest man* of your life._

She watched Lewis walk away into the mist. "Valerie Lewis is a lucky woman," Hobson said under her breath. She went home to have a long, hot shower- just the thing to cope with call outs in the wind and rain.

It would be many years later, but one day, she and Lewis would share that particular method together.

* * *

Author Note: the lyric, of course, should be "I'll be the greatest FAN of your life." Still nice, but not quite what I was going for. FIN.


End file.
